Six Minutes
by LittleLadyhawke
Summary: A spontaneous declaration


Author: LittleLadyhawke

Disclaimer: I don't own G.I. Joe

Summary:

Rating: PG-13 (a few harsh words spoken)

Feedback: Always a nice thing to have. Any flams will be used to roast marshmallows so I canmake smores later.

Author's Notes: For Liz (TopHat) for always being such a wonderful friend when I needed one the most. With love always kiddo ~ JB

**Six Minutes**

Amazing. One moment you were wide awake sitting on the side of a gurney insisting you just needed some painkillers and a good night's rest; the next you woke up on your back in the recovery room with tubes and all other paraphernalia coming out of your body. Man, anesthesia was bitch. Doc blindsided him; got him all worked up so he wouldn't notice the needle. He'd seen the man do it to other Joes countless times in the past, and he'd fallen right into the trap himself.

He shifted on the bed slightly to get into a better position, and realized he wasn't alone in the room. He kept his eyes closed trying not to remember the one chance he'd had to say the right thing at the right time and failed. He knew it was her sitting next to him. All he had to do was say now what had been on his mind then. He took a deep breath and let it out.

"You know, I do love you," there, he'd said it.

"Well I love you too sugar lump," the decidedly male voice answered back.

He whipped his head around, big mistake, to look at the person sitting by his bedside. No, this was not Scarlett. It was Flint wearing the biggest grin he'd ever seen on the other man.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Duke croaked.

"Allowing you to express your undying affection for me apparently. I do have to say, that while I am flattered, there is someone else," Flint sat back in the chair.

"You're an asshole," Duke winced as he tried to sit up.

"Yes, but I am the asshole you love. You just said so. And I really don't think you should be trying to sit up just yet." Flint joked as he firmly pushed him back down on the bed.

This was not exactly what he had planned. He had fully been expecting Scarlett to be sitting in that chair. Where was she? Was she alright?

"I need to get out of here. Help me up will you?" he made as if to get off the bed.

"No, I think you need to stay right where you are until I can go get Doc and have him check you out,' Flint easily halted his attempts to get up and out of bed. Damn he hated being this weak and disoriented.

Duke lay back down panting from the small effort, "You know, this time yesterday I could have kicked you ass."

Flint laughed, "My friend, this time yesterday you were still sleeping like a baby. You've been out of it for almost two days now."

Two days? No way had it been two days. Hell, he felt …well, maybe it had been two days.

He raised his hand to cover his eyes and winced as his right side reminded him exactly why he was in the position he was in.

"That wound deciding to show you who's boss, huh?" Flint chuckled.

"I hate you," Duke grunted.

"That's not what you said a few minutes ago," Flint reminded him.

"I wasn't talking to you. I thought you were…um…"

"You thought I was…?" Flint asked knowingly.

"Get out."

"Are you bothering my patient?" Doc entered the room.

"Nope. As a matter of fact, he just told me he loved me," Flint grinned again.

"He'd be the only one," Doc snorted and Duke laughed.

"That's just mean," Flint had the gall to look wounded.

"No that's just life, now take a hike while I have a look at my patient," Doc ordered.

"Whatever you say, Doc," Flint pushed up from the chair. "Now don't go two-timing me, Duke."

When the other man had left, Doc looked at Duke over the rim of his glasses, "Did you really tell him…?"

"It wasn't like that! I thought…he wasn't…" Duke stammered.

Doc raised a hand for silence, "You know what, I won't ask and you don't tell. We'll just say it was the medication."

Duke looked at the older man in surprise. What the hell? He was about to try and defend himself further when he noticed the rare smile trying to break free on Doc's face. Ok, so the man did have a sense of humor. Duke smiled in return.

"You know, he's never going to let you live this down don't you?" Doc commented and Duke rolled his eyes. "So, how's my patient today?"

* * *

"Damn it, Lady Jaye, let me out of here," Scarlett banged on the door.

"No," came the muffled but succinct reply.

No? "Why the hell not?" she attempted to yell, but was interrupted by a fit of coughing.

"Because you're sick," she answered after Scarlett finished. "And gooey," she added when she heard the other woman sneeze and blow her nose.

Apparently Scarlett had come back from Siberia with more than just a wounded Duke; she had brought back a nasty cold, and there was no way she was going to be allowed to spread that thing. Friends or not, she had to draw the line somewhere.

"This is false imprisonment you cow! I could sue you, and I'm pretty sure it's against the Geneva Convention …or the Constitution… or something," Scarlett trailed off as her head started to pound. She knew she was sick when even thinking hurt.

"Try against the law. Besides, who are you going to tell? Believe me, my version of the story is going to be vastly different from yours and if need be I will tell it with tears in my eyes," Lady Jaye answered and started to walk away from the door, and then suddenly it dawned on her, "And just who the hell are you calling a cow?"

Scarlett mumbled something from the other side of the closed door that Lady Jaye was sure was less than flattering to either herself or her parentage.

"You need a nap. Go and lay down somewhere," Lady Jaye once again walked away from the door. As long as she had known her, Scarlett had never been sick. Not physically anyway, mentally was anyone's guess.

She walked into the small kitchen and pulled down a can of condensed chicken noodle soup. She grimaced as she saw the expiration date. It would have to do for now. Jut as she had managed to coax the soup out of the can and into a pot where it made a distinct 'plop', there was a light knock at the door.

"It's open," she yelled.

"Hey you," Flint sauntered in.

Her heart did a little flip when she looked up at him; no point feeding his already over-inflated ego by letting him know that little bit of information. "Hey," she replied.

"How's Typhoid Mary?" he asked.

"In an unpleasant mood which includes an extremely foul mouth," she smiled. "I feel bad for her so I making what Campbell's has loosely labeled as soup. I'll probably have to shove it under the door to get it to her; either that or use a chair and a whip."

"If you use the whip, can I watch?" he grinned.

"Pervert," Lady Jaye rolled her eyes. "How's the other patient? Is he awake yet?"

"Yep, and then he professed his love for me."

"Must have been the drugs," she quipped.

"Ouch, that hurt."

"So other than being drugged out of his mind how is he?"

"That's just it; I don't think he was under the influence as much as he tried to make me believe." At Lady Jaye's alarmed look he continued, "I actually think he thought I was someone else."

"Who…Oh, don't tell me he's still hung up on that Sabrina girl?" Lady Jaye huffed.

"Her name was Selena," Flint interjected.

"I don't care if her name was Sunshine and she blew bubbles out of her ass. I don't like her."

"You've never met her."

"Well, if I had met her, I still wouldn't like her."

"It hardly matters whether you or I like her or not. Besides, if you ask me, we should be looking a little closer to home for the answer to our question anyway," Flint shrugged.

"Closer to home? Who…" Lady Jaye was interrupted by a loud sneeze and a fit of coughing.

Flint smiled.

"Oh this is just too good to be true," she smiled back.

* * *

Scarlett was sick. Really sick. Not as if he could go to the nearest Hallmark store and get her a card. He couldn't send her flowers, and she had never been big on candy. Besides which, that would be too obvious anyway. The best he had been able to do was ask after her through various sources. He had tried to call once, but that pit bull of a roommate she had was firmly entrenched and was not allowing Scarlett to be 'disturbed' and wanted to know if he wanted to leave a message.

"Disturbed," he muttered as he paced the length of the room. He was not some damn telemarketer trying to sell a subscription to Better Homes and Gardens. He was…well, what exactly was he?

"Good question," he stood up not caring that he was officially talking to himself. "What am I? I never kissed her. I told her to stay...she stayed...but does she really want a ... boyfriend? No, no that's way too juvenile...a lover?" he shook his head again. "No, we're not there yet, and that's the damn problem. I mean we're not friends. Well, we are friends…but…a friend wouldn't tell you if she's only got six minutes left to live, she would rather spend them with you. So we're past that right?"

"I'm going to say that's a definite yes," the same infuriating voice from his hospital bedside answered him.

Duke rolled his eyes heavenward. Here we go, "There are reasons people have locks on their doors you know."

"Yes, I do. Perhaps you should try using them," Flint quipped as he closed the door.

"I swear, I am not in the mood," Duke sighed.

"I think you are, just not with me. Which makes me think there was going to be a 'Dear John' letter in my immediate future," Flint replied as he made himself at home. Making it obvious he would not be going anywhere anytime soon.

"You can be such a pain in the ass sometimes," the insult obviously did not hit its mark as Flint just grinned wider. "Look, just say whatever you need to say and get lost."

"Well I don't want to say what I was going to say anymore. Now I want to listen to what you were saying. So, carry on soldier," Flint leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs at the ankles.

"I am not going to discuss this with you," Duke stalked over to the fridge and pulled out two beers.

"OK," Flint shrugged.

"OK what?" Duke asked suspiciously.

"OK you don't want to discuss with me the fact that you had a closer shave in Siberia than you led me to believe, you will pay for that by the way. OK you don't want to discuss with me the fact that somewhere along the line you have fallen, and I do mean hard, for everyone's favorite redhead. OK you don't want to discuss the fact that you are about to drive yourself insane trying to figure out what to do next and how to get her to go along with you, which shouldn't be a problem if she was willing to spend the last six minutes of her life with you. Did I miss anything?" Flint asked as he opened the beer.

"No, I think that about covers it," Duke sat down. "So, what now Dr. Phil?"

"Hell if I know," Flint shrugged.

"You're not helping," Duke snorted.

"I never said I was going to help. I said I wanted to hear what you had to say," Flint took another swig. Duke glared at Flint; torn between telling him everything and getting an outside opinion or keeping what Scarlett said to him in Siberia private. It wasn't that he didn't believe Flint could keep it to himself. It was just that …hell…how was he supposed to explain it to someone else when he wasn't so sure he understood it himself. Duke didn't realize he had been silently lost in thought until Flint started humming the theme to Jeopardy. Yeah, the man could keep a secret, but he really was a pain in the ass.

Duke rubbed both hands down his face, "Where to begin?"

"The beginning usually works for me, but this is your story…tell it however you want to," Flint all of a sudden seemed serious. When Duke remained silent, he figured he'd give him a little nudge in the right direction, "How about you answer the question most inquiring minds, well my inquiring mind anyway, will want to know."

"And what exactly would that be?" Duke sighed.

"How you got her away from tall, dark and silent," Flint leaned forward.

"It was easier than I would have thought. I told her to choose and she chose," he shrugged sheepishly.

"Stepping outside your professional relationship for a moment, when was the last time you actually _told_ her to do something and she did it. You may be able to give the soldier an order my friend, but somehow, I don't think you can _tell_ the woman anything," Flint smirked obviously satisfied with himself and his explanation.

"I guess the real question is why then," Duke muttered absently.

Flint shrugged, "Why she chose one way over the other I can't honestly say. That's a question only she can answer with any degree of certainty. My guess would be that she's kind of fond of you, although heaven only knows why. You really are a surly son of a bitch, you know."

Duke opened his mouth to argue, but Flint stopped him, "The real question, Duke, is not why she chose you over him, but why all of a sudden you _wanted_ her to. You answer that one my friend and I think everything else may just fall into place."

"I have no idea. I was angry about Bazooka. I almost wanted to blame Snake Eyes for what Storm Shadow did. I figured if he didn't hesitate to kill someone who wasn't all that close to Snakes, imagine what he would do to someone who was…" Duke trailed off.

"Thus, the knee jerk reaction of you wanting to make her choose between the two of you?" Flint continued when Duke nodded, "While that is really sweet in a really twisted way, I don't think she'd appreciate that particular sentiment. So, if you ever decide you want to have this discussion with her, and I really think you should, I would leave that part out."

* * *

"Now doesn't this fresh air feel good after being cooped up for the last few days?" Lady Jaye sighed breaking the companionable silence she and Scarlett had adopted when they first started walking minutes ago.

"I suppose so," came Scarlett's noncommittal reply.

They continued walking for a few moments more.

"Ok, This is killing me. I have to know. What happened in Siberia?" Lady Jaye stopped and put her hands on her hips.

"What do you mean what happened? You were there during the de-briefing. You know what happened," Scarlett replied.

"Yeah, I heard the official report, but what I want to know is what happened off the record."

"What makes you think there was anything 'off the record'" Scarlett asked.

"We'll just say a little birdie told me," Lady Jaye smiled.

Scarlett laughed, "By any chance does this bird wear a beret and incessantly work one's nerves?"

"Maybe."

"I'll take that as a yes."

They were silent for a few more moments before Lady Jaye continued, "So are you going to tell me what happened, or are you going to wallow in it for the next however long?"

Scarlett hesitated for a moment, "Why the hell not. You probably already know most of it anyway. But I want no comments from the peanut gallery while I tell this. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am. My lips are sealed," Lady Jaye smiled. "At least for the time being, anyway. So, spill."

Lady Jaye kept silent for the next few minutes, a new personal best for her, while Scarlett talked. "So, what are you going to tell Snake Eyes?" she asked even though that was the very last question she'd been dying to ask.

Scarlett stared at her blankly for a moment, "Why in the world would I tell him anything about this?"

"Um, because he's bound to want an explanation, at least I would think he would."

It took a moment before her meaning finally sunk in, "Oh for crying out loud. Don't tell me that rumor is still going on. Why the hell does everyone think that? As far as I know I…we…have never given anyone any reason to believe any thing of the sort."

"Okay, okay. Calm down. For the record I never really thought there was anything there, but you never said one way or the other. You know if you don't say anything when rumors get started, they take on a life of their own and wind up defining you sometimes," Lady Jaye advised.

"You sound like the voice of experience," Scarlett cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, well that's a story for another time," came the prim reply. "We were talking about you."

"So Duke asked you to choose and you chose him?"

"There was no choice involved. I had no intention of going anywhere in the first place. The only thing he accomplished with that macho display, charming as it was, was letting me know we were on the same page as far as how we felt about each other. I figured once this was all over…" She shrugged self consciously. "It never dawned on me that something might happen and I would never get the chance to tell him, so when I thought we only had a few minutes left, I just kind of let it all out,"

"Well that's a start,"

"Yeah, but I have no idea where to go from here," Scarlett sighed.

"Sure you do. Just say what you intended to say in the first place. I read somewhere you should begin as you mean to go on, and I think in this case it's the best advice I could give."

"You know, sometimes you actually say things that make sense," Scarlett quipped.

"Yeah, I have my moments," Lady Jaye winked. "Now, as much as I know you enjoy my company, I think you should go and have a talk with someone else."

* * *

"Ow…what the hell," Duke grabbed his head.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Scarlett grimaced.

"Why did you do that?" there was no doubt in his mind he was going to have a bruise.

"I said I was sorry. What else do you want from me?" she asked trying to get a better look at where her fist had hit his forehead. Who knew the moment she went to knock on the door he would open it, causing her to 'knock' on his forehead. Not that one could tell the difference between the wood of the door and his hard ass head. He knuckles were still stinging.

"I think you gave me a concussion," he looked at his hand expecting to see blood.

"Oh grow up. I barely touched you." The look he gave her told her exactly what he thought of that assessment. "You want me to kiss it and make it better?"

She moved away from him to get some ice from the freezer to wrap it in a towel, so she didn't hear his mumbled "Yes, yes I would."

"Here, put this on your head," she said and handed him the homemade ice pack and maneuvered him to the couch and forced him to sit down. "We need to talk."

He grimaced. No man above the age of thirteen liked to hear those words coming from any woman above the age of twelve. No way was he going to step on that land mine. He decided to play it safe, "About what?"

Oh, he knew good and damn well what she wanted to talk about. Two could play that game. She matched his cool stare with one of her own. One of them was going to blink, and she would be damned to hell in gasoline panties if she'd let it be her.

He finally broke eye contact and ran his hands down his face. "Okay, so where do we go from here?" he sighed and leaned his head on the back of the couch.

"I don't know. This was your idea. Where do _you_ want it to go?" her exasperation was starting to well up.

"I was kind of hoping you'd tell me," he grinned at her sheepishly.

"Well, we can't go back and put this particular genie back in the bottle, so I guess we need to move forward," she took the ice from his head and investigated the sore spot. "You'll live," she murmured.

"I guess this is kind of like the blind leading the blind huh?" he took hold of the hand that had been gently rubbing his forehead. It didn't really hurt all that much anymore, but damned if he'd tell her that.

"Why don't we just start at the beginning like at any normal couple would and work our way forward?" she asked as she threaded her fingers through his.

"Sounds like a plan. In keeping with that plan, Miss O'Hara, would you accompany me to dinner?"

"I would be most pleased to do so. I think Roadblock is off this evening, so it may be sloppy joe night in the mess hall," she grimaced.

"Who said anything about the mess hall?"


End file.
